In a culinary landscape ruled by nuggets, fries, and burgers my old man began regretting his decision to request the children’s meal for me during our journey to the motherland. He had come so far in grooming my palate to realize there was a world – a tastier world – beyond processed meats and oil-soaked potato sticks.
On the flip side, he also realized it was a 19-hour trip in cramped quarters to the Philippines with no easy resolution for a hungry and cranky TodFoo. In this case, a children’s meal was a necessary evil. A safety net, if you will. A keeper of all things sane for him and mom dukes.